Lifeless
by Schermionie
Summary: As Hikaru approaches his 72nd birthday, Sai's memory isn't the only thing fading...


Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obatta, not me. I'm merely borrowing the characters for a while.

A/N: I'm currently very busy and rather distracted by the sudden HikaGo AU idea I got, not to mention my need to start writing for the Noughts and Crosses archive. So, this is all I can give you for now. It was actually the first HikaGo fic I wrote, but due to its more explorative nature I decided against posting it. Still not entirely sure I should have done, but posting stuff is something I enjoy, as well as receiving comments on my work (hint, hint). Maybe it'll help fuel my endeavours to continue with that AU (the first chapter has over 7,500 words and was absolutely exhausting to write, so I need all the fuel I can get).

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

_What would I say to Sai if I met him, if I could possibly ever have the chance to see him again? If I even recognised him?_

This question – if you could meet a great Go player of the past, what would you say to him? – was one that countless Go players had asked over the decades that Hikaru had been playing Go. He had heard it many times, with many different answers. Most would say things along the lines of, "I would ask him to play a game with me" or, "I would ask him where he got his inspiration from, how he could make such great moves".

Yet to Hikaru, these questions had seemed all so pointless, as lifeless as the stones he now placed on the Goban before him. He was replaying a game from long ago, when he was first learning Go. Those days seemed like the distant whisper of a breeze on an opressively hot day; he had been young and carefree, and now he was old and worn. He hadn't seen it then, but now it was clear to him.

The elegant white pieces made a beautiful pattern across the board.

_Sai_.

The slate black stones, however, were another matter. Hesitant, foolish moves that he could see through now, but back then it had been the extent of his skill. These graceless, lumbering moves marred what could have been a beautiful match.

_And me._

Go players could be told so much just by looking at a clusters of stones on a Goban. This massive gap in skill between them had not closed one bit since this long-ago game.

_It's widened_.

Even though he was able remember the texture of the envelope containing his monetary offering to Toya Akira's son at his father's funeral as if he had touched it yesterday, it felt as if the only things he had held in years were Go stones. But despite that feeling, despite knowing Go so well, he was not progressing at all. He was failing.

That's why Hikaru knew that asking to play a game with Sai would be pointless. He could not learn. What had he taken away from this match, after all? _Pachi_. Nothing. He had not learned. _Pachi_. His Go had not grown. It was stale, mouldy. Revolting.

_PACHI_.

As for asking Sai where he had got the inspiration for those brilliant moves from… _It would be pointless. I could never understand him_.

No. Asking Sai a question, even saying one word to him, would be utterly futile. If he could meet Sai again… He would watch him. _What was he like, when he was alive_? Hikaru would sit and absorb everything about him, commit his features to memory.

After all, he'd only have one chance, because Kami-sama would not grace him with more than that.

_Pachipachipachipachi_. The single monotonous sound of Go. Repeating but never changing.

_But if I could meet Torajiro, that would be another story. I would not ask him to play a game or to teach me to play better Go; I would ask him a question only I could formulate. _

"What does the glint Sai gets in his eyes before playing Go look like? Because I've forgotten, Torajiro. I've forgotten how happy Sai was when I let him play. I… can't even remember his face, or the sound of his voice."

_All those years ago, I discovered that Sai's Go lived in my Go. That if I played more and more, he would still exist in some way. But the Divine Move could not be further from my grasp right now. Every time I sit down before a game, I can't help but he filled with fear that this time it won't live, that it will die uncared for. Because if I can't even remember him, how can I remember his Go? I've lost before the game's even started._

Hikaru clenched a withered hand around the fan he now carried with him everywhere. He placed another stone, in the middle of the game now. _Pachi_. This game was dead… why was he playing it? How could it help him?

He cleared his thoughts and studied the board, abandoning the stiff Kifu paper that recorded this match that he'd long forgotten. He would turn it around in his favour. He would make this game live.

_Pachi_.

Maybe Sai would come back if he did that.

* * *


End file.
